


Blood-Stained Hands

by Crypticus



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Noirham - Freeform, fluff??, oof, or is it hamnoir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 18:04:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17370794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crypticus/pseuds/Crypticus
Summary: Ham’s a deep sleeper, so when he wakes up for no particular reason the swine absolutely must investigate. This search, egged on by his ‘sixth sense’ leads Ham to Noir — where the two have something similar to that of a heart-to-heart.





	Blood-Stained Hands

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t believe I lost a bet and wrote this as punishment?? I also can’t believe the one who I lost the bet to won’t stOp pEsTerIng me to godamn poSt iT? 
> 
> Sigh lmao. Warning, I literally only know of these two characters from watching the movie once and my friend’s many rants about this.. Uh, crack ship I’m assuming that’s what they called it. Also— it was suPpoSed to be rEaLly heavy on the hamnoir/noirham but I think I kinda failed a bit on that one lmao. Sigh it’s past 5 in the morning I am so gonna regret this later but godamnit— sorry for any typos.

 Peter Porker (more commonly referred to as ‘Ham’) was a heavy sleeper, surprising as it may sound given the whole ‘superhero’ thing. One would expect that a hero, with ‘special spider powers’ and all that jazz would remain alert at all times - but not Ham, the swine was hard to wake up after he falls asleep; lost to whatever it was that his mind managed to cook up.

 Knowing that, it was no surprise that Ham felt extremely wary when he suddenly woke up. After all there was no reason to, everything was quiet and Ham was submerged in utter darkness. Regardless, Ham slid from the bed he was occupying and took a look around. His ‘sixth sense’ as Miles called it, was screaming at him. It was telling the pig something was awfully wrong, that someone was missing. Just like that it’s clear, there _should_ be someone else in the room - but there isn’t, a certain detective known as ‘Noir’ doesn’t seem to be present in the room they share at Aunt May’s house (in Miles’ dimension.)

 With a quiet grunt, the swine leaves the room with determined steps. Ham’s a man— well, pig, on a mission. What may that mission be? Obviously, locate where the brooding detective seems to have relocated to.

* * *

  Ham’s ‘mission’ turned out to be much shorter than he originally thought. After exiting the room all the pig had to do was traverse down the hallway before walking down a flight of stairs, then proceed to ‘peek’ around the corner and bam — Ham’s found the missing detective.

 What now, though? The pig is uncertain, because something about the man he’s currently not-so-discreetly watching seems off. This worries Ham, yet he doesn’t know why...! That frustrates the pig a bit. The odd concern only grows, when Ham notices something. In the dim lighting, provided by a small lamp currently on at the table Noir is seated at, Ham makes out a thick sheet of paper. It’s drenched...? Ham can tell there’s a bunch of colors mashed together, yet one seems to stick out a lot more than the rest: red. At that, Ham realizes — paint, but why is Noir messing with paint at a time like this?

 The concern he feels continues to grow, along with the curiosity, so after a mental debate that lasted for a rather short amount of time the pig steps out from his hiding spot. “So, gotta favorite color out of those?”

_Yes, just stay nonchalant. Keep your cool, Ham._

 Of course, that’s easier said than done... Because when the detective stiffens as if he honestly didn’t expect anyone else to find him doing whatever it was he’s doing, Ham takes a few more steps forward. “You alright, bud?” There’s absolutely no way to sugarcoat the concern in his voice, and when Noir doesn’t respond Ham takes double initiative and proceeds to climb onto the table. He’s careful to not step on the paper, and eyes it curiously. “That’s quite the variety of colors you got goin’ on, Pete.” He comments, it’s no lie. The paper is practically covered in paint, well, except for the edges. Colors like blue, green, and purple consume the material - so different, yet blended in such a way that they seem to melt together (beautifully!)

 While that may seem odd to others, in all honesty Ham can’t help but admire it.

 And then, suddenly, Ham’s eyes are assaulted by something entirely different different. It’s the red he noticed just a few moments ago; in all its vibrant, downright-ferocious glory. He can even see some flecks of red paint splattered on the table. “Really like red, huh?” He doesn’t think before speaking, something Ham regrets when he sees Noir’s posture somehow manage to stiffen even more.

 “Hardly.” The detective’s voice is quiet, Ham barely hears him. The pig lets out a noise of intrigue at Noir’s vague answer, and settles down on the table, staring at the masked man expectantly. “It’s...” Noir struggles to find the right words, which seems to irritate the man immensely.

 Ham’s patient though, and waits silently while Noir gathers his thoughts.

 “It comes out as bright,” the detective sounds almost bitter as he speaks. “Cheerful.” It doesn’t take a genius to figure that Noir’s frowning, even if he’s wearing a mask that would cover it. “I- just fail to understand, how such a vibrant color can be so... How red can manage to be darker than darkness itself.”

 At this Ham blinks, before it hits him. Where Noir was from, the world was an unforgiving place. A place where mainly only black and white remained, along with the shades of grey in between. Given what bits and pieces of information Ham knew regarding Noir’s universe, it’s likely that ‘red’ was the only other color that seemed to bleed through — something that likely wasn’t a ‘good’ thing.

 “Red— it isn’t just all... Rainbows and sunshine—“

 Ham chuckles slightly at that phrase, hearing it coming out of Noir’s mouth amused him to no end. The detective spares him a glance, Ham can imagine the unimpressed look on his face.

 “-It’s a.. Red is sickening. It’s pain, danger, hurt...” The man pauses, and Ham notes how Noir’s hands with curl into fists before relaxing repeatedly. “It’s sticky...”

 Now that turns Ham’s attention away from the obviously distressed man’s hands. Sticky? The pig doesn’t like the sound of that, nor the bad feeling that washes over him at the description. “And it’s warm, smells... Like mixture of copper and iron.” Noir’s voice seems to roughen up, and he goes silent, staring down at his owns gloved hands. Ham hears the sharp inhale, he can sense the panic rising in Noir’s mind.

 He does the only thing that comes to mind, and moves to place both of his hands over Noir’s — hiding whatever it is that only the detective can see. Ham tries to ignore odd chill that travels through his hands when they come into contact with Noir’s gloved ones, shoving it into the back of his mind.

 For a minute or two after placing his hand over Noir’s, Ham feels the silence grow thicker between the two before the atmosphere seems to turn just a tiny bit lighter.

 “It’s blood.” Noir finishes lamely, the detective’s voice is chock-full of an emotion Ham doesn’t believe he’s heard from Noir before — guilt. Perhaps shame would be a better word, or remorse? Regardless, hearing that makes things a lot more clear as to why Noir was out here instead of in the room they share. The entire ‘Spider-Gang’ as Miles and Peni called them had done nothing today that would’ve related to what Noir was struggling with now. It’s likely a bad memory, that triggered this. Sympathy that Ham hadn’t noticed was growing within him ever since he sat down with Noir, it burst at the seams - overwhelming his very being. Along with that however, was a surge of determination.

 “It wasn’t your fault.” Ham states firmly, glaring into the reflective-like goggles on Noir’s mask. The man in black and white stares straight right back at him, looking ready to object. “Don’t. Whatever happened, you may have been involved in some way that led to a bad ending... But that is most certainly not because of you, as controversial as it may sound.” The pig continues, his grip on Noir’s hands tightening.

 “I shot ‘em.” He says so suddenly, “I shot the lil fella I was trying to ‘save’.”

 Ham damn near wants to hug the man when he hears the guilt, exhaustion, the pain in Noir’s voice, but refrains himself from doing so.

 “I killed the very person I helped escape. He was a kid-“ The detective’s voice raises, “The pigeon-livered, rat-faced scum got a hold of him because I was a damn _fool_ -“ Noir never got to finish because Ham is quick to interject.

 “Now hold it right there, Mister!” The pig interrupts him, “based on what you were just saying I’m going to assume whoever you fought used the kid as a meat shield.” So blunt, but Ham refuses to allow Noir to continue subtly and not-so-subtly degrading himself. The detective tilts his head, looking at Ham as if slightly surprised before nodding. If that wasn’t enough confirmation, then to Ham the way Noir’s shoulders slumped were what really did it. “Exactly, not your fault. You tried to save the boy, Peter. You couldn’t have expected for the guy to use ‘im as a living shield. Stop blaming yourself.” Ham barely registers the fact that he’s just used Noir’s first name.

 “He looked at me like I was a hero.” Noir mutters. When Ham says the boy was right, the detective stares incredulously.

  “You’re the one who chose to go help that boy, in a city full of people who’d much rather leave him than offer aid. You’re the one who fights crime in the city, the one who makes that dimension a better place to live in — even if just a tiny bit. $&#@ you do the same @%#$ thing for all of us! You don’t hesitate to offer assistance if myself, Peter, Miles, Gwen, or Peni are in a pickle. That’s exactly what that boy saw in you, you’re a hero to him... Just as you’re a hero in m- our eyes as well.” Ham rants, letting go of Noir’s hands to gesture wildly. All the while, Noir stares, a feeling akin to warmth flushing over his face at the last part. When the pig finishes speaking, a long period of silence stretches out between the two. However, despite that the atmosphere remained considerably lighter than before.

 “I see... Huh, you really are somethin' eh?” Noir’s voice comes out softer, so unlike him in a way. Ham can feel a warmth swell up within him.

 “Why thank you.” His response is pleasant, and the smile on Ham’s face grows. However he knows this isn’t the last time Noir may be troubled by something, whether from a bad memory or whatnot. The pig is quick to tell the detective if he has something trouble him, he’ll be more than happy to talk. At the soft chuckle he receives in return, that warmth from before...? It returns in full force, leaving the pig feeling dizzy — in a good way.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I can’t remember why I made this account a year or two ago, eh it came in handy? If you somehow managed to read this utter mass of cringe and confusion— congrats :P
> 
> Yeah that’s about it, hope you have a nice day/night/etc :)


End file.
